


Jane Doe

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: The game is on and it is one that Sherlock does not want to play. As a new father, crime is no a longer a riddle to be solved or puzzle to be pieced together, but a danger to those who are closest to him.





	Jane Doe

  
[](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)  


  


It was 4AM when Sherlock Holmes received a call from the Scotland Yard.

"You all must be feeling extremely stupid with this one if you're calling me this early in the morning, Genevieve," Sherlock grumbled groggily. He paused as he listened to what must have been Greg Lestrade's retort. "It sounds exactly like 'Greg' and it doesn't matter if it's a girl's name," Sherlock countered, now a little more awake.

He sat up and pressed the phone even closer to his ear. "What are you going on about? I'll be there in twenty minutes. Try not to muck it all up before I arrive." He hung up in a huff.

You sat up as well and gently placed your hand on his back. "What was that about?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I almost don't even want to waste both of our time to explain. There's a murder and he thinks I can't handle it for 'personal reasons.'" He made a foolish face that must have meant to be Lestrade's before he jumped out of bed.

"Well, what the hell does that mean?" you asked. You had followed him out of bed and began to toss him clothes.

He caught the shirt you had thrown in his direction and he quickly pulled it on. He hesitated slightly, hardly visible to the normal eye – but not yours. You had been together too long to read most of Sherlock's micro-expressions.

"Sherlock, what is it?" Before he could answer, there was a static-y cry from the baby monitor. "You're lucky." You pointed a finger at him. "Make sure to get John up."

Sherlock nodded his head before rushing out of the room as you followed. "John, wake up! We have work to do!" He banged on the door violently. Based on the thud, the swearing, and the smacking sound, John had fallen out of bed (obviously startled) got angry, and smacked Sherlock.

"Hi!" John panted as he rushed passed you.

"Hi, John," you smiled.

"Bye!" he answered breathlessly as he ran down the stairs with Sherlock. 

Their footsteps reverberated throughout the entire flat. There was a flurry of commentary, a slam of the door, and then complete silence.

You padded into the small study that had become Jade's room. She was rolling around and whimpering.

"Okay," you said softly as you scooped her up, "let's figure out what's going on."

~*~

"We found her about an hour before we called you."

"An hour!?" Sherlock snapped. "Do you actually think this case will even be solved after your goons have been all over it?" Sherlock spun on his heal, now facing Lestrade. "Why did you even bother to call me to figure this out?"

"Because you're the only one who can," Lestrade said sheepishly.

Sherlock smiled smugly. "Thought as much."

"All right!" Lestrade called. "You know the drill, back up!" He clapped a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Listen, if you get up there and decide not to take it-"

Sherlock swatted his hand off like a fly. "As you said, Gary, 'back up." Lestrade sighed and did just that, which gave Sherlock pause. He shrugged it off and made his way to the police tape. To his surprise, John came jogging back up from the crime scene. He hadn't even noticed he had left.

"You know what, Sherlock," he said breathlessly, "you really don't have to take every single case that is flung at you." He gestured behind him as a king would dismiss a servant. "It's honestly not a good fit."

Sherlock studied his best friend's face as it constantly changed in the flashing red and blue light. John Watson looked sad . More so, John Watson looked concerned for his best friend.

"No, I think I'm a perfect fit." Sherlock pushed past him and made his way down the gravel hill.

The crime scene was at a deserted part of the Hackney Central train tracks. It was a remote area, the parked train was sprayed with graffiti and storage containers hung above their heads. There was a strong breeze, rattling the trees and blowing Sherlock's hair in his face. He flipped up his collar and retreated deeper into his scarf. The only light was the flashing red and blue of the police cars and the small spotlights lighting up the body up ahead.

"Sherlock, please..." John made a final plea as he grabbed Sherlock's arm, but it was too late.

Sherlock's mouth went dry as he processed the corpse of what could only be a two-year-old little girl. His blue eyes met her own blue, now milky dead eyes. He processed her hair, the same color as your own. Sherlock shook his head, grounding himself.

"John!" Sherlock shouted.

"I'm right here, Sherlock," John said immediately.

"Right," Sherlock said quietly. He cleared his throat and kneeled down. "Judging by the state of her clothes, such as the ill-fitting coat, mismatched shoes, and obvious holes and other instances of extreme wear, she is homeless." Sherlock snapped on a glove and gingerly examined her hair. "There are no cuts on the skin but there is significant bruising." He gently pressed down on the girl's skull. "The skull has been split open underneath the skin, making it very possible that she died due to blunt force trauma.

Sherlock focused his attention to the little girl's hands. Slipping out a magnifying glass from his pocket, he examined closer. "Red sticky residue covering her palm and the inside of her fingers." He pried them open. He was taken aback. "Smells like cherry."

"I think it's candy," John offered.

"Yes," Sherlock had taken a swab and stuck it under his magnifying glass. "There is the presence of sugar crystals. Well done."

"Thank you."

Sherlock had moved on to the girl's clothes. "You're bound to get one every once in a while," he insulted distractedly. "Now this is odd." He pulled out a wad of cash.

"So," John said slowly. "we have a little homeless girl who had a stack of money and bought herself a bunch of sweets?" John thought for a moment and groaned. "Don't tell me we have some kind of pedo' running around?"

Sherlock was quiet for several moments before he answered. "Not a pedophile," Sherlock said slowly. "There are no signs of sexual abuse, but our target is luring young children with money and sweets. Based on the money alone, it's safe to deduce that he is focused on the homeless. He wants to be able to keep killing and the obvious thing to do is to go after someone nobody cares about. "

"Do you think anyone in your homeless network will know about her?"

Sherlock ran a hand down his face before answering. "Even my homeless are too upper class to live here." He looked down at the blue eyed girl that reminded him so much of his own. "She really is nameless."

~*~

You chewed your thumb as you read the newest academic paper of one of your fellow colleagues. You were lounging on the floor, rotating your ankle as Jade chased your toes. If only you could be so easily entertained.

"You're never going to catch it," you told her, whipping it away. She screamed in delight and crawled after your foot. Right when she was going to get her chubby hands on your toes, you drew your knee to your chest.

"MA!"

"JADE!"

You pulled her to you and you kissed her cheeks. "What's up?"

"Dectda," she said, much too serious for a baby. She pointed to the door.

"Yes. Daddy is playing detective right now. He'll be back soon, though. Promise."

The morning sun had come up and you had both eaten breakfast, yet both men had not returned home. In the past you would have brushed it off. The long, strange hours were normal for the job. But now that you had Jade, you couldn't help but be a little more concerned. So you were quite relieved when you heard familiar footsteps coming up the stairs.

The front door banged open and Sherlock looked around wildly.

"Over here," you waved. When Sherlock turned to you, you saw something in his eyes that you had never seen before.

He swallowed before striding over to you. Before you could blink, he yanked you up and pressed you against his chest in a tight hug. Jade sat snuggly in the middle.

"Dectda," Jade said softly, pulling at Sherlock's scarf. Sherlock kissed your forehead before taking off his coat and scarf.

Without a word, he took Jade from you and hugged her. Sherlock pressed his forehead against the top of her head and closed his eyes. 

She looked up and touched his cheeks. "Dectda." Sherlock nodded in affirmation before he kicked off his shoes and went to the couch. Still holding Jade as if his life depended on it, Sherlock lay down with his back to you and curled into a ball.

You looked at John in complete shock. That was his tantrum ball and he was _rarely_ that affectionate. It was then that you noticed that John was also not looking quite right. He waved you into the kitchen and you knew whatever he had to tell you was not going to be good.

**Author's Note:**

> It is possible that there will be a longer period between posting because I want this arc to be very detailed and precise. We'll see.


End file.
